Crystal Inferno
by PewterChicken
Summary: A story engraved in time itself will reveal itself as it is told. The tales of the Scribes will be uncovered, and history uncovered like never before. And all told by one woman.


Disclaimer that Naruto does not belong to me. Masashi Kishimoto is the rightful owner.

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_Sometimes you can't see yourself clearly until you see yourself through the eyes of others._

_Ellen DeGeneres_

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The damn sun is way too hot.

No shit, Sherlock. But I can admit, Egypt is hotter than Suna. Especially during the day. But it should be expected with no goddamn trees. And with no trees, there's nothing to give you shade in the fucking desert. Why, exactly, am I in the middle of the desert with no civilization in sight?

Oh wait. I almost forgot.

The reason why I'm writing this is because I want my tale to be told to my children from my own lips. That, and my dear Takeo told me to.

Oh my sweet darlings, Temari, Kankuro. How I wish I could be there with you, playing with you and seeing you off to the academy. But why do I have to be pregnant and in the middle of the desert?

The desert isn't really that bad I suppose, but being pregnant with my third child is making it tough. I really wish you would hurry it up, Gaara.

Oh dear, look at my going off the task at hand. I wish I knew how exactly to tell you this tale. Perhaps I should at the very beginning? Yes that will be an acceptable place to start.

Your loving mother,

Sabaku Karura

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I believe I was four when I stumbled upon the book that decided my choice to become a Scribe for the Monks. Of course, you wouldn't really know about them, would you? There are very few that know about them that are not a part of them, and I fear by the next decade all knowledge about them will be lost.

You see, the Monks don't exactly allow written records to be kept of them. I thank my lucky stars that I found that chapter.

We are a powerful group. Given the task of preventing the Underworld to mix with the mortal world, as well as protecting the Spirit world. That is why no written records are allowed. We must protect the truth about the Scribes. But I have decided to leave this knowledge to you.

Do not mix Scribes with normal ones. The normal scribes write down the history of the mortal world. There is a large amount of difference between the two.

The Scribes are one tribe that composes the Four Trees. And I will tell more about them later, do not fear. IF you are lucky enough to be chosen by the Elders, you receive a special name composed from an old language from far beyond the age of the Shinobi. My name was Nezan Jedan, meaning Gentle One.

While I was gentle, do not misunderstand. I had a fiery spirit, and didn't back down. Temari, I hope you do not inherit all of my personality, because I can already tell that you have a personality very similar to me. But we shall see.

I should tell you about the time that I discovered it, after all it was one of the major points in my life that influenced my older years.

~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~

It was an eerie place at night, the library. The candlelight flickered, making shadows on the bookshelves. The light also illuminated a sandy haired child. The tiny girl, with reading glasses perched on her nose, didn't really seem to be bothered by the flickering candlelight, nor the wind that was howling outside as rain pounded down trying to get through the roof and windows.

She was pouring through a book, an ancient and dusty book titled Ancient Legends. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she stopped at the middle of the book.

Sighing to herself, she squinted as she tried to discern the faded handwriting from the yellow pages. Frowning, she studied the title and succeeding at it, started to read the whole way down.

**The Scribes**

The Scribes, a group of people dedicated to their purpose of hiding and keeping the Spirit world and Underworld safe, and also from mixing with each other. Their spoken and written language is Serbian, a language of the Olden. (Refer to page 13 for more info on the Olden)

The Scribes, a part of the Four Trees, are composed of monks. Being chosen to become a scribe is hard, because it requires to be chosen by the Elders and also to go through the tasks of getting to the Chamber of Elders. Three tasks may seem insignificant, but they are very important.

To begin the first task, you must prepare seven sacrifices and chant this spell:

Želim da postanem jedan od književnika i da zaštiti duh i podzemlja

From this point-

"Dammit!" She exclaimed as a draft blew out the candle. Sighing, she knew she had to get home and so closed the book and put it back where it came from.

Unfolding her legs, she stretched and stood up. Picking up the candle and tray, she quickly made her way down to the storage room and placed the items down by the door. Running back up the stairs and through the shelves, she popped out the window that she had used to get in. Hopping through it, she quickly slid through and shut it so rain wasn't blown by the wind inside.

Pulling her hood up, she smiled slightly at Konoha in the rain before stepping out from under the overhang of the roof. Instantly pelted by rain and wind, she started jogging through the streets.

Panting, she slid open the door of her apartment, and stepped inside. Pulling off her jacket, she put it on the coat hangers and slipped off her shoes. "I'm home!" she called out.

Immediately, as if she was waiting for her daughter's return, a young woman's head poked out from the end of the hallway with a dangerous look in her eyes and a smile on her face.

"And where have you been, Kararu?" She said. Kurara shrugged her shoulders.

"Where else?" She responded. Kushina sighed, shaking her head.

"Of course you would be there. How do you manage to come home before dinner is ready anyways? You have five minutes." she said, before disappearing back to where she came from, which was the kitchen.

Groaning, as she knew that now she had said that her dad would want to talk to her, she walked down the hallway passing the kitchen where she could see her mother bending down and pulling out whatever was in the oven out. Opening her bedroom door, she slipped in and shut the door behind her.

~~~~~~~Flashback end~~~~~~~

To this day, I still don't regret doing my usual habit of sneaking into the civilian library and reading their books. With this, I became a well-educated young woman before 12. And for right now, I must take a break from writing because I have gotten to my destination. Until next time.

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You can tell that Legend of the Namikaze: Uzumaki Karura has been rewritten. Hopefully this is more enjoyable to read than the first one.


End file.
